Chapter 4: The One Destined

Nine Years Later

Where once the entrance to Zhaoruo Temple bustled with a constant stream of visitors, now not a soul could be seen. After a while, a peach-colored carriage drew up before the temple. A servant hastily placed a small stool by the carriage, and a maid gently lifted the curtain. A slender, fair hand emerged, its nails lacquered in a delicate shell-pink, the elegant fingers adorned with a coral-red ring on the middle finger and a jade-green bangle at the wrist. As a gentle breeze stirred, the soft chime of jade ornaments rang out, carrying with it a faint, elusive fragrance.

That graceful hand rested lightly on the maid’s as a beautiful woman stepped down from the carriage. She was clad in a pale blue blouse embroidered with chrysanthemums, a long skirt adorned with silver patterns and butterflies, and dainty peony flowers embroidered on her satin shoes. Her long, lustrous hair was neatly coiled into two buns at either side, each pinned with a jeweled coral hairpin shaped like a bat. With measured steps, she alighted, and as she paused, a boy of about ten years old emerged from the carriage.

The young master wore a robe of white brocade embroidered with clouds and moonlight, matching boots of Shu brocade upon his feet, and a jade circlet crowning his head, gathering his hair at the brow while the rest fell loose over his shoulders. His skin was translucent and fair, his eyes bright and dark as ink, his nose straight and delicate, his lips a tender red, and a crimson vermillion mark adorned his forehead—altogether, a picture of extraordinary beauty.

The boy deftly stepped down from the carriage and reached for the woman’s hand, calling softly, “Mother.” She smiled gently, adjusted the jade crown on his head, and replied tenderly, “Let us go in.”

Within the hall, a gilded statue of the Buddha Shakyamuni was enshrined, flanked by the eighteen arhats, their forms solemn and dignified. Helian Jia left Beigong Qiyi waiting outside and knelt alone before the Buddha, palms pressed together, murmuring, “I, of the Beigong clan, have come with my son to pray for blessings. May the Buddha watch over my sons, Beigong Juechen and Beigong Qiyi, and grant them peace throughout their lives.”

At that moment, a maid handed over three sticks of incense. Helian Jia beckoned to Beigong Qiyi, who straightened his robes and approached. Helian Jia passed him the incense, then received another three sticks from the maid. She bowed three times to the Buddha, then placed the incense into the burner.

From the moment he awoke, Beigong Qiyi had felt a stifling heaviness in his chest, though the reason eluded him. He did not believe in such things, but recalling the prophecy of the master in his previous life, he forced himself to focus, bowed three times respectfully, and placed the incense in the burner as Helian Jia did.

Helian Jia took Beigong Qiyi’s hand. At that moment, an old monk in a crimson kasaya entered the hall. Helian Jia led Beigong Qiyi over to him. The maid handed over a pouch of alms. The monk accepted it and said softly, “Amitabha, benefactor, your heart is kind.”

Helian Jia smiled modestly. “You flatter me, Master. I must trouble you further.” With that, she gently nudged Beigong Qiyi forward. The old monk nodded, his clouded eyes sharp beneath their surface. Beigong Qiyi’s expression was calm, yet the pressure in his chest only intensified.

The monk’s face suddenly grew grave. He withdrew his gaze and sighed to Helian Jia, “Benefactor, your young master has entered this realm by mistake. He is no ordinary being—if he does not soar to the skies, he will surely find his road ends in ruin and oblivion.” Beigong Qiyi’s heart clenched, his brows knitting tightly, and Helian Jia’s face changed at once. She hurriedly asked, “Is there any way to avert this, Master?”

The old monk shook his head, his white beard trembling. He looked at the anxious Helian Jia and said, “To break is to remain unbroken. The young master’s fate is bound to another; his life and death are intertwined with this person, and no outside force can intervene. Still, judging by his features, his years should remain free of sorrow.” Hearing this, Helian Jia knew he was merely offering comfort, but her expression eased somewhat. She nodded gently to the monk. “Thank you, Master.” She then took Beigong Qiyi’s hand to leave, but the monk stopped her with words left unspoken.

“Is there something more, Master?” Helian Jia asked.

The monk sighed. “I have just now read your fortune and see a looming disaster of blood. Please, take care of yourself.” The heaviness in Beigong Qiyi’s chest did not abate; at these words, he looked up sharply at the monk.

Helian Jia nodded. “Thank you for the warning, Master. I shall be mindful.” With that, she led Beigong Qiyi out.

Crossing the threshold, Beigong Qiyi could not help but look back. He saw the old monk watching them depart, shaking his head gently. Beigong Qiyi’s heart grew heavy—he knew this disaster would not be easily escaped...

By the time they returned to Lichang Manor, dusk had begun to fall. The nearer they drew, the more oppressive the feeling in Beigong Qiyi’s chest became. Only when they stepped from the carriage at Lichang Manor did the feeling suddenly dissipate. Standing before the manor gates, his face changed abruptly—the gates, usually shut tight, now stood wide open, and the stench of blood hung thick in the air.

Helian Jia’s face blanched. She seized Beigong Qiyi’s hand and rushed inside. Under the pale moonlight, corpses littered the grounds, blood flowing in rivers. Helian Jia gasped, then, hearing the clash of weapons, pressed on.

Beigong Qiyi listened closely, face grim. Suddenly, a flash of silver cut through the air. The children of the Beigong clan were all trained in martial arts from a young age, and Helian Jia, though the youngest of the Helian family, was renowned in the martial world as well. It was no effort for them to dodge the blade.

Together, they dispatched the attackers as they made their way to the main courtyard. There, the stench of blood was stronger still. In the distance, Beigong Li was locked in furious combat with a masked man in black robes. From the man’s moves and his use of clawed weapons, Beigong Qiyi could guess his allegiance.

Since the Beigong clan’s rise, its offspring had all been blessed with extraordinary physique, born martial prodigies—save for Beigong Li, whose talents were merely average. Yet, under the devoted tutelage of Beigong Xinmo, Beigong Li had become a formidable fighter in his own right. For years, the fame of Lichang Manor had kept all trouble at bay. Beigong Qiyi narrowed his eyes and sighed softly. But how could one who stood above all others tolerate any threat to his power...

Though Beigong Li’s talents were modest, his two sons had inherited the clan’s ancestral gifts, especially Beigong Juechen—a once-in-a-century genius. If Lichang Manor were to fall, it would be through this branch...

Just then, Beigong Li’s right arm was slashed by iron claws, his sword falling to the ground. The claws swept toward his chest. Helian Jia cried out, “Ali—!” and leaped forward, shielding Beigong Li from the fatal blow.

“Jia’er...” Beigong Li watched as Helian Jia’s eyes closed, her breath faltering. In that instant, his strength surged, and with his hand formed into a fist, he struck through the black-robed attacker’s chest. Beigong Qiyi’s brows drew tight—he knew Beigong Li had shattered his own meridians for this final strike.

Beigong Li slowly collapsed to the ground. He looked at Beigong Qiyi and, with effort, lifted his hand. Beigong Qiyi rushed to him, clutching his hand tightly. Though Beigong Qiyi was by nature cold and reserved, his eyes reddened, and he choked out, “Father...”

Yet Beigong Li only smiled faintly, gripping Beigong Qiyi’s hand. Gasping, he said, “Yi...Yi’er, you must...bury me and your mother...together...” With those words, his eyes drifted shut, his arms still wrapped around Helian Jia.

Not seeking to share the same bed in life, but only the same grave in death...

“Father!” Beigong Qiyi clutched the now-lifeless hand and laughed bitterly. “How do you know I will make it out of here alive...”